Five
by dzertedislandgrrrl
Summary: Helen thinks Quinn is pregnant.


Five 

By CharlieGirl

Daria is owned by MTV, so if you sue me you'll get a voicemail message proclaiming my utter inability to pay for a **CANDYBAR**, much less a lawyer.  This fic is © 2002, by me.  Don't plagiarize it.  **I** didn't even work hard on it.  

'How the hell did she get herself into this mess?'  Daria thought with a sigh.  She and Quinn were seated on the edge of Quinn's bed.  Quinn had a chunk of hair in her mouth and her chin rested on her hand.  In an oversized tee shirt, she looked exactly like a little girl playing dress-up.  

Outside in the hall, Helen had her head pressed against the door.  She'd been woken by low voices a few minutes earlier, and had gone to check on the girls.  They were near the end of their conversation when she got close enough to hear them.  

"… I tell her?"  

"I don't know, but you should tell her soon.  She'll find out eventually, and it's better to be honest… well, not always to _her_, seeing as… you know."  

"**YOU** know what she's like.  She'll have other things to do, or She'll criticize me without even listening to me."  

"You have a point, but still… won't it be obvious in a couple of months?  Better to tell her now, if you're so concerned about your popularity.  She can help you figure out what to do about it and maybe help you."  

"Hmmm."  

  
Helen gasped quietly, having a good idea what they were talking about.  After thirty seconds of silence, she heard bedsprings squeak, and the heavy tread of Daria's boots heading towards her.  As she tiptoed as quickly and quietly to her bedroom as she could, an after-thought struck her:  There hadn't been even a trace of sarcasm in Daria's voice.  It could only be one thing.  Quinn was pregnant!  She pulled her door shut, and lay back down in bed.  

Daria was surprised when the phone rang, but even more surprised when she heard Quinn's voice on the other end.  

"Daria, I have a problem."  

"Which shoes, what color are they, and what are you trying to match them to?"  Daria said, with more than a hint of amusement in her voice.  The last time Quinn had called her at her dorm room, she was worried that her date my cancel on her and she'd be stuck going to a Sadie's dance by herself.  Then whichever guy she'd asked had shown up, only two minutes late, and Quinn had run off without hanging up the phone.  

"I'm **SERIOUS**, Daria!  It's important.  You're the only person I know who's smart enough to help me with this."  

"All right, what's the problem?"  She said with a sigh.  She hated it when Quinn used her brains in a positive light.  It always made her want to help.  

"I can't talk about it over the phone, Mom and Dad are here.  Could you come home for the weekend?"  

"It's that big a problem?"  

"Yeah.  Really… Yeah."  

"I'll be there in a couple of hours."  

Despite the fact that it was early April, the roads out of Boston were a little icy.  The Honda held up well enough, and Daria made it back to Lawndale without too much trouble.  Slamming the door with a sigh, she grabbed her suitcase and marched up to the door, ringing the bell despite the fact that her family still lived there.  Helen opened the door and started.  

"Um, April Fool?"  

Jake's kitchen skills hadn't improved by much, and they sat around the table eating an only slightly edible stew.  Quinn picked at her food, disinterested, and Daria watched her, dreading the conversation she knew was—

"So, Daria, how is college so far?"  

Daria just looked at her, tearing the expectant expression off her mother's face and replacing it with one of resignation.  

"Okay, I knew I had that one coming.  Anyone interesting move into your dorm yet?"  

Daria relented.  Almost.  

"Well, if you call a Bipolar Nymphomaniac with a flair for being incredibly noisy when she and her boyfriends—"  

"Fine, Daria.  You win.  Quinn, how was school yesterday?"  

Quinn sat, poking at her food, and then looked up when she realized the question was for her.  

"Oh, fine.  Quiz, Quiz, Test, Assembly, Lunch, Rant, Teary Optimism, _VIOLENT_ Rant, Study Hall."  

Silence all around for a long moment.  

"You got DeMartino, O'Neil, and Barch all in a row this semester?  So, do these masochistic tendencies come out at any more appropriate times?"  Daria said with a smirk.  Quinn raised an eyebrow and smirked back.  

"Daria, college has changed you.  Not necessarily for the better, but it's an amusing transformation none-the-less."  She winked at her sister.  

Jake looked confused, and Helen somewhat startled by this sisterly camaraderie, until Daria punched her lightly in the arm, and got hit hard in return.  They took this as their cue to exit, chasing each other up the stairs with empty threats and mock punches.  Helen got up and went to the TV.  

"So, girls, what do you think of the…. Stew?"  Jake looked around, surprised to find the room empty, and most of the bowls still full of stew.  He looked at his own empty bowl, then shrugged and scooped up the dishes, heading for the sink.  

Daria and Quinn sat on the edge of her bed.  In her hands, Quinn held several packets of papers, and her face betrayed her concern.  

"Five?!  You got accepted to **FIVE** colleges?"  

"Well… Yeah."  She said, mildly proud at her achievement.  

"I guess the Fashion Club _DOES_ count as an extracurricular."

"Well, duh!  But you see the problem?"  

"Yeah.  You outshone me."  

"Da-ree-ah!"  

"Yeah, I know, which one do you pick?  Well, you could go to the one nearest where you want to live, or the one that offers the best classes, or the one that you might be able to get a scholarship to, or the one that has the best sororities…"  The sarcasm was back for a moment.  Quinn rolled her eyes.  

"Yeah, right, like I'll have time for a sorority.  Do **YOU** have time for a sorority?"  To the silence:  "Thought not."  

"Well… You should probably talk to one of your Fashion… people, or whatever you call them.  Like Sandi.  You know, before you lose your popularity over some silly college acceptance letters."  

"But how do I tell her?"  

"I don't know, but you should tell her soon.  She'll find out eventually…"  

Daria went to bed that night with a feeling of pride for her little sister.  She felt a little jealous that Quinn had gotten so many acceptance letters, but chalked it off to her people skills and relentless charm.  It was a bit odd to be sleeping in her old room, though.  Especially without the padding on the walls.  She rolled over and sighed, falling asleep.  

The next morning, Helen sat at the table with a pile of pancakes, waiting for the girls to come downstairs.  Despite her workload, her briefcase was in the living room.  She had more important things on her mind.  Like how to broach the subject to Quinn.  There were footsteps on the stairs, and the subject of her thoughts pranced into the kitchen.  

"Ooooh, pancakes!  Thanks.  I'm so hungry I could eat a horse, but not an ugly one.  One of those cute ponies with the long manes, and…. Ewwww, I'm talking about eating **HORSES**!  Muh-omm, why don't you **STOP** me when I start getting all icky like that?"  

Helen sighed, taking the hunger and the oddity of her one-sided conversation as a sign of pregnancy.  Quinn piled up a stack of pancakes and drenched them with syrup, then cut a hunk of butter off and smeared it around.  She munched away, while Helen looked at her trepidatiously, trying to get the ball rolling.  

"Quinn…"  

Quinn looked up from her plate, a smear of syrup on her nose.  Helen smiled and wiped it off with a napkin.  Quinn smiled back, but her smile faded as Helen's face went concerned.  She waited for her mom to speak, not having heard a hint of question in her voice.  

"Quinn, honey, I heard you and Daria talking last night.  You know, you _CAN_ come to me with these things.  I try not to brush you off when it's important.  And I'll never berate you if you're in trouble; I'll only try to help you."  

Quinn looked at her, confused.  

"Now you know, you have an important decision to make.  It will affect your whole life, and everyone around you.  Your career, your finances, your relationships, and your social standing are all dictated by actions that we think won't _EVER_ have any consequences, but as you now must know, a few minutes of pleasure can lead to a lifetime of regret."  

By now, Quinn had guessed at what her mom was talking about, and she had a hard time keeping a straight face, planning her next words carefully.  

"Now, I know you like children, but you **DO** need to seriously consider an abortion."  

"Mom…"  She began gently, "how am I going to abort five?"  

"Five?!  Oh no, oh my god!  Did he use fertility drugs?  We can sue him for child support, and for misleading youth, and, how old is he honey?"  

"I'm sure they're all above thirty."  

"You don't know who he **IS**?"  

"Not personally, no."  

"Oh, **GOD**, Quinn!  This is terrible!  How can you just sit there **SMILING** at a time like this?  Didn't you think to use protection?!"  

"I used white-out a few times, but other than that…"  

"White-out?  Are you **INSANE**, Quinn?  White-out doesn't get rid of big mistakes like this!  What are you **GIGGLING** about?!"  

"Okay, the jig's up.  You caught us.  It was all a practical joke."  

"Now Quinn, I know what I heard in your room.  You and Daria were talking about—"  

"About the five college acceptance letters I got in the mail last week."  

Helen nearly fainted, and she sat down, trying to regain composure.  

"You're not pregnant."  

  
She shook her head.  

"You got in to five colleges."  

She nodded.  

"Wow.  But all that stuff before about the five men?"  

"The **DEANS**, Mom!  Gawd!"  

She snickered, and then they both broke out into hysterical laughter.  

The End…


End file.
